


about last night,

by retweet_this



Category: Pundit & Broadcast Journalist RPF (US), Real News RPF
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, it's not really jim/jake unless they have a Moment in a public restroom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 07:31:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14689416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retweet_this/pseuds/retweet_this
Summary: “You know,” he says, “Michelle Wolff was pretty spot-on about what you look like when you come.”





	about last night,

**Author's Note:**

  * For [herstrionics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/herstrionics/gifts), [LilyRosePotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyRosePotter/gifts).



> for laura, who wasn't expecting this, and for maddie, who didn't want any part of this, and for liz, whose ao3 account i do not know

If you asked Jake upfront, he’d say he likes parties. He likes talking to people, interacting with coworkers and their families, asking how people are and introducing them to his wife and hearing them say, “yes, Jake, we’ve met your wife, you introduce her every time, it’s just getting weird now.”

“We should get you a book on small talk,” Jen says, taking a short sip of her drink. “You’re dead weight after you’ve introduced me.”

“No I’m not,” Jake insists. Jen gives him a look and he can’t keep a straight face, laughing a little as he leans down to kiss her cheek. She gives him an indulgent smile before handing him her glass.

“Gotta use the bathroom,” she tells him.

“So you’re leaving me to mingle alone?” he asks, slight humor in his tone as he tries to push down the slight nervousness bubbling under his chest. He doesn’t want to mingle, he hates mingling.

Okay, sure, there’s nothing to be afraid of, the crowd is filled with familiar faces and people who love him, but still –

“I’m not sure you’re going to be alone,” Jen inclines her head and Jake turns to see an all-too-familiar figure, back toward him but he can hear his laugh. If he tried, he could probably pick Jim’s laugh out of a crowd. He’s heard it enough times.

He’s barely taken a step when Jen grabs his arm and he whips around to see her give him a stern look. “Remember where you are,” she says, slowly.

“I won’t get into any trouble,” Jake promises. “You know me, I hate doing that.”

“Sure you do.” She pulls away before he can make another comment and he ends up watching her go. The hair on the back of his neck stands before he hears Jim’s voice.

“You know, if you stand there alone for too long, someone might think it’s okay to come and try to talk to you,” he hums. He’s got a coy smile on his face. If that’s the right word. There’s nothing coy about him.

“You mean someone like you?” Jake asks.

The smile turns into a smirk and Jim shrugs. “Better me than someone else, huh?” He holds out his arm. “Come on, before someone thinks I’m bothering you.”

“They wouldn’t be wrong,” Jake says, even though they would be and they both know that. He takes his arm and they walk toward the edges of the room, less people around to listen to them.

“So how’s the missus?” Jim finally asks. “I see you’ve got two glasses, is she here somewhere?”

Jake almost forgot he was holding them. “Oh,” he says, “she’s in the bathroom.”

“I see,” Jim nods slowly. “Here, let me take this out of your hands.” He grabs a glass and Jake opens his mouth to tell him that it’s Jen’s – but Jim must realize that, mustn’t he, with the stark lipstick stain right on the rim?

Jim turns the glass and drinks right where Jen made her mark. He smacks his lips when he’s done, and Jake has to take a few deep breaths before he can speak. “That’s not very gentlemanly of you, to steal a lady’s drink.”

“Oh, I didn’t know I had to be a gentleman around you,” Jim says. He brings the glass back to his lips before he remembers he finished it.

Jake resists the urge to roll his eyes (or smile). “That may be, but what about your date, huh?” he looks around, trying to see if he can discern one blonde head from another. “Didn’t you come here with Liz? Won’t she be a little peeved you’re spending so much time talking to me?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Jim waves his hand dismissively. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

“I’m not jealous,” Jake starts to say – except that’s exactly what someone who was jealous would say and he immediately closes his mouth. He shakes his head. “Just – what exactly are you –”

“Kevin Bacon is doing a show at a different party,” Jim cuts him off. “I didn’t go to that party yet but I hear Lester Holt’s on the guitar. Do you wanna go with me?”

Jake opens his mouth, but he hasn’t gotten a word out when Jen suddenly steps in between them. “Oh, hello, Jim,” she says, all calm with a little hint of exhaustion. “What are you up to?”

“Oh, you know, just trying to steal your husband away from you,” Jim says casually. He leans over to kiss her cheek and she lets out a laugh.

“Go ahead and keep him,” she hums. “Goodness knows he’s too much of a hassle for me to deal with anymore.”

“Hey,” Jake huffs, only just now finding his voice. Jim throws his head back in a laugh, shaking his head, only breathing when a distant voice calls out his name.

He sighs a little as he turns to Jake, and the coy smile from before is back. “Think about it, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for him to respond before walking away.

Jen raises a brow. “Think about what?”

“He – invited me to some other pre-dinner party,” Jake says. His glass still has plenty of drink in it, he takes a short sip. “You know I hate parties. _He_ knows I hate parties.”

“He does,” Jen nods, slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, Jake can see her giving him an unreadable look. He doesn’t try to decipher it.

“He should know I’m not going to go,” he continues. “He should know that. Why would I go? Why – why on earth would I go?”

“Why indeed.”

Jake drains his glass and grits his teeth. “I should tell him I’m not going.” He hands Jen her glass and she just sighs and shakes her head. “Don’t stay out too late,” she calls out as he walks away.

Why would he stay out too late? He’s not staying out late, he’s just going to tell Jim that he’s going home and he’s not going to any parties – he pauses to grab a drink, downing it in a few sips before he makes his way outside – and Jim will understand because they’re all adults who can be responsible.

Jim’s helping Liz into a car when Jake comes outside. Their eyes meet, and then Jim sticks his head into the car, “Something came up, I’ll get another ride after this. Have a nice night.”

“Jim –” she starts to say, but he’s already closed the door on her. The car drives off as he turns to face him. He’s smiling.

“You should’ve gone in,” Jake tells him. “I came here to tell you I’m not going to another party.”

“Huh.” Jim sticks his hands into his pockets and leans back on his heels. “So,” he hums, “what do you wanna do now?”

It’s a bit of a blur how they find their way to the other side of the building. Jake can feel more than hear the party inside, the low thrum of music reverberating against the wall Jim’s pushing him up against.

Jake’s tipsy but he’s not drunk, he knows they’ve been kissing for a while now. His hand is curled around the back of Jim’s head while Jim sucks on his lower lip, thumb brushing against Jake’s jaw as he holds his cheek in place.

They’ve been kissing for a while. Jim’s thigh is between his legs and Jake pulls away for a second. “We’re not fucking out here.”

“No, no, I know that,” Jim assures him, pushing his hair back and tucking it behind his ear. Of course it doesn’t stay, but the gesture is nice. “I didn’t even bring any condoms.”

Jake blinks. “So – you brought me out here just to, what, grind against each other until we come in our pants?”

“What’s so wrong with that?” Jim shoves a hand between them, nice and a little cold from the outside but Jake can barely feel it through his layers.

He rolls his eyes. “You know, if I look like I’ve come in my pants after my wife has left, people are gonna ask questions.”

“This is a crowd of political journalists, all they do is ask questions,” Jim’s got his belt off and his zip undone, and now Jake can feel how cold it is, a stark contrast from how warm it was inside his pants. He’s pretty sure Jim can feel how hard he is already.

“They should ask questions about politicians,” he replies, letting out a shaky breath as Jim’s finger moves down, drawing a line around his dick. “Not about whether or not I’m getting jerked off outside.”

“ _Are_ you getting jerked off outside?” Lights reflect in Jim’s eyes and they look a little like they’re sparkling. Jake thinks it’s cliched as fuck.

His sigh trails off into a slight chuckle as he shakes his head. “Would you jerk me off, please?”

 

Jim spits in his hand, and then moves forward to kiss him again. He finally goes inside his underwear, fingers wrapping around Jake’s dick. His hands are very broad, wide and open, and he always starts out the same way whenever he does this.

Slow and deliberate motions at first, trying to draw it out, trying to tease. He kisses down the side of Jake’s jaw and shifts to his neck. Jake’s head hits the back of the wall with a low thud but it doesn’t hurt.

“Don’t leave a hickey,” he mumbles instead. “People are going to take pictures of me, I can’t –” he cuts himself off with a moan, Jim grazes his teeth against his skin as he teases the head of his cock. It’s a lot, it’s a lot, he has to bite his lip to stop from making anymore noises.

If he concentrates, he thinks he can hear people talking a few feet away. But then Jim’s mouth his back against his lips and he forgets to concentrate.

Jake’s knees go weak before anything else as his hips jerk to meet Jim’s movements. He can barely hold his eyes open, lashes fluttering and brushing a little against Jim’s cheeks. He’s never really given much thought to his lashes before.

And then Jim’s got his hand on his mouth to muffle his gasp as he comes right in his underwear. They stand there like that for a few moments, Jim wiping his hand on the inside of Jake’s pants as he zips them back up and Jake just catching his breath, before he takes a step back and holds out his arm.

“Come on,” he says. “Let’s get you out of here.”

He’s not really paying attention while Jim’s giving the driver directions, still a little out of it. They’re already on the road and Jake’s staring out the window when he mumbles, “I can’t go home with you.”

“Okay,” Jim says.

“I mean it.” Jake looks over at him and Jim meets his gaze, unsteady meeting stable. “I gotta get ready for tomorrow.”

“I know.”

He wonders why Jim isn’t trying to convince him more. Maybe because he knows Jake is tired and he doesn’t feel like fighting much. He wouldn’t mind going to Jim’s home, sitting with him on his couch, maybe getting on his knees to suck him off.

Jim’s dick is visible through his pants (though that isn’t new), he’d appreciate Jake returning the favor. Maybe they could cuddle before they sleep. Jake likes being the little spoon when he’s with him.

“I can’t go,” he says again, more on principle. The car pulls to a stop and he stumbles out, straightening himself only to find that they’re right outside his house.

He turns back to see Jim reaching for the car door, smiling as always. “Give Jen my love,” he calls out, slamming the door shut. The car drives off and Jake is left just standing there, in front of his house, probably looking exactly like he just came in his pants.

At least Jen’s home, he notes as he heads for the door. At least he won’t have to face the babysitter in his walk of shame. But then Jen gives him a knowing grin when she opens the door for him and that’s enough to make him flush with regret.

“I –” he starts, but she shakes her head and pulls him inside.

“Go and take a shower, Mister I-Hate-Parties,” she hums, “you’ve got an award to win tomorrow.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jake gets to the dinner a little earlier than he’d expected. Jen’s out back trying to find a place to park the car so he walks the red carpet alone. He’s Jake Tapper, he’s gotta walk the red carpet, gotta let people take pictures of him and talk about what he’s doing and how cool he is.

He’s still cool, right, since the last time he checked?

But that’s not what he’s really focused on because he spots Jim inside. It’s not that hard to find people inside, even if the venue is big and the people are many, everyone knows each other and they all cluster into familiar groups.

Familiar groups.

Jim has a hand on the small of Liz’s back, they’re laughing at something Don is saying, Jake can’t tell what. He can’t make himself look for that long, it makes him feel a little sick to think about it.

“Are you all right?” Dana asks him – oh, fuck, he forgot they were having a conversation literally right when he saw Jim across the room.

“What?” Jake blinks. “Oh, I’m – fine. There is absolutely nothing wrong here.”

She frowns in concern. “Are you sure? You seem a little…” she gestures vaguely across his face.

“I’m fine,” he says again, clearing his throat. “I just have… a stomach flu.”

“A stomach flu.”

“Yes.”

There’s a brief moment of silence where they just stare at each other, then she takes a short sip of her drink. “Why don’t we find Jim and his wife so we can get to our seats.”

Jim doesn’t have a wife anymore, Jake thinks, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but Dana points behind him and – oh, right, Jim Sciutto, the other Jim, the guy he’s winning an award with. The award-winning Jim. How must his Jim (not _his_ Jim, but for the lack of a better modifier) think of that?

After all his attention-seeking and grandstanding and everything else, he’s left with what? A woman on his arm? A young woman. Pretty, too, if you’re into small blondes (which, look at his wife, he is). Probably a lot more accommodating than Jake can be with a lot less baggage on her hands.

And she’s a lot younger too. A lot younger than Jake. It doesn’t even make sense that Jim is interested in her when he’s clearly interested in older men. Which is kind of strange given the dynamics of their relationship. Whatever the case may be, there’s no way she’s done with Jim what they did last night. Unless – fuck, unless –

Jen snaps her fingers in front of Jake’s face and he stupidly blinks down at her. She rolls her eyes and follows where his gaze was. Jim and Liz are talking to Jeff now, he’s holding her arm now. “Are you _really_ jealous of the girlfriend?”

“Jealous?” Jake repeats, unintentionally in a tone that almost definitely proves her point. “I’m – I’m not _jealous_.”

She grabs his arm and starts pulling him along, “Come on, everyone else has already gone inside.” He looks back for a second before they go, but Jim is already gone.

He doesn’t see him until after everything is winding down, while he’s making a quick pitstop in the restroom before he and Jen head home. At least he doesn’t have to do his show tomorrow, at least his flight leaves at a reasonable time tomorrow.

Michelle Wolff’s voice echoes in his ears, “That’s all we have time for,” and he laughs a little as he washes his hands.

The door opens and he whips around, only to find that it’s Jim. “His” Jim, not Jim Sciutto. Strange he still wants to call him his.

“Hey, you,” Jim says.

“Hi,” Jake says.

There’s an awkward silence as Jim heads for the urinals and Jake starts washing his hands again. Sure they’re already clean, but more clean wouldn’t hurt. He moves very slowly, very delicately, trying not to move too fast because – cleanliness is important.

Jim washes his hands a sink away from him. He looks over a moment then back at himself in the mirror. “You know,” he says, “Wolff was pretty spot-on about what you look like when you come.”

“Really?” Jake deadpans. “And remind me, what exactly did she say Sarah Sanders calls you?”

“Hm, I don’t quite remember,” Jim hums. He’s grinning now, a very stupid grin that reflects across his whole face. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“I won’t say such a crass word,” Jake tells him. Jim rolls his eyes a little, “Oh, come on, Jake, don’t –”

“Why don’t _you_ stop being such a little bitch?”

Jim turns off the faucet, and he turns to Jake. Jake wonders what he looks like, if he’s looking at him the way Jim’s looking at him. Maybe they’re thinking the same thing – the bathroom has a couple of empty stalls, it’s not like they haven’t done this before, they don’t have to talk about how Jen left a packet of lube in his wallet because Jim probably has a condom this time around.

The floor isn’t even all that dirty, if it comes to that. He bites the inside of his cheek because he thinks he might be smiling. Jim takes a step forward and –

And then his phone rings. He tries to find it in both of his pockets, checking the caller before he sighs. “It’s Don,” he says. “He’s my ride.”

“Oh,” Jake says. “Have – have fun out there, then.”

“Thanks,” Jim slides his phone open and presses it against his ear as he walks out. His hands are still wet. Jake’s hands are still wet too.

Well, Jake thinks, there’s always next year. The next time they wind up at the same party or are free at the same time or whatever. There’s always a next time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s almost eleven when he gets the call. He’s just finished packing, zipping up his suitcase when his phone blares out his ringtone. He picks up without looking. “Hello?”

“What are you wearing?” Jim asks him. There’s the sound of music, of people, of a party in the background. CNN was invited to the Playboy afterparty. He didn’t expect Jim to go but then again, why wouldn’t he?

Jake looks down at himself. “I’m still in my suit.”

“Ever thought about wearing what these bunnies wear?” Jim says. “Let me describe it to you – it’s like a one-piece swimsuit but tighter, barely covering your chest, and then you’re wearing a collar with a bowtie around your neck and bracelets that are kind of like the cuffs of your sleeves.”

“Uh huh,” Jake says, for the lack of anything else to say. “What about the part that makes them bunnies?”

“Oh, they’ve got bunny ears headpieces and a whole fluffy tail covering their ass.”

Despite himself, he chuckles a little. It’s always funny to hear Jim drunk, swearing, acting a little unlike his usual self. It would be wrong of him to say he likes drunk Jim better than sober Jim.

“Thanks for the description,” he says, “but I think I’m going to pass on this.”

“I don’t know,” Jim sighs, “you really wanna pass this opportunity up? You could always wear lace panties underneath.”

Jake nearly drops his phone and across the room, Winston gives him a curious look. He shakes his head. “ _Jim_.”

“Come over,” he replies. “Not to the party. To my place.”

“Jim,” he says again, this time as a sigh. “Jim, that’s a bit unreasonable. I have to pack for my trip tomorrow, I can’t be driving out in the middle of the night. Plus, you’re – you’re at a party, you’re having fun, you’re with your –” the word sticks in his throat and only the second half makes it out, “– _friend_ , just… enjoy yourself.”

“Liz says I’m talking too much about you,” Jim says. Before Jake can say his name in yet a third tone, he continues. “Come on, now, it’s been months since Austin. You still have the hat?”

Jake thinks about the dumb cowboy hat upstairs in his closet and the even dumber way Jim explained what the reverse cowgirl position was which ended with Jake falling off the side of the bed.

“It’s been _a_ month since Austin,” Jake corrects.

“We always get along in foreign cities,” Jim points out. “Why don’t we try something domestically for once?”

And Jake wants to remind him that they have, plenty of times, more times than Jake would like to consider, but then he thinks about Jen sleeping upstairs and how he still hasn’t changed his clothes and how Jim is with his girlfriend but he’s still calling Jake.

“I’ll be there in twenty,” he says, and he hangs up.

Jake’s just about to knock on the door when a voice behind him says, “You know, if I knew you were gonna be here this early, I would’ve just called you from my house.”

Jim’s got his coat around his arm, a pink flush coloring his trademark smile as he steps past Jake to fumble with his keys against the lock.

“I didn’t know you’d be this late getting here,” Jake replies. Jim smells like fading cologne and perfume and alcohol and Jake’s very glad he didn’t go to the party now. Sure, it wasn’t a _real_ Playboy party but just the idea makes him feel sick. People drunk and women flirting and forcing him to be charming when he just wants to sit around with his dog.

He imagines tight outfits and bunny ears and Jim’s fingers gripping more than the fluff of a tail and it takes him a moment to realize Jim’s opened the door.

“You gonna stay out there all night?” he asks, head tilted in confusion. He’s still smiling.

Jake steps inside. Jim’s home always has a bit of a lonely quality for him – probably the lack of children and the lack of pets. He wonders if Jim feels the same way about it, but then Jim’s dropped his jacket on the floor and he’s kissing him.

He tastes drunk, actually drunk, liquor in every corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t move drunk. It’s like a repeat of last night, him pressing Jake against the wall and kissing him with what feels like his entire body.

Jake is the first to pull away. “I think we’re a little too old for wall sex, don’t you?”

“Speak for yourself,” Jim mumbles, but when he leans back away from him, he’s smiling again. “All right, let’s go peel you out of your dumb suit.”

It’s cheap bait, if anything, but Jake still says, “ _You’re_ the one in a dumb suit,” as Jim takes his arm and pulls him into his bedroom.

His bed is a mess, Jake expected nothing less, but at least the comforter is bunched up on the side he sits on, pulling off his jacket and shoes as he leans back into the bundle of sheets.

Jim more or less trips out of his shoes, nearly slipping with his socks before he gets his bearings and stands over him.

“There we go,” he grins. He fumbles around the nightstand, missing the first couple of times before he drops the lube and condom on the bed.

The packet lands on Jake’s cheek and he shakes it off. “You’re a clumsy drunk, aren’t you?”

“I’m neither clumsy nor drunk,” he replies confidently. At least one of those is a lie, but Jake lets it slide because Jim’s got his pants off his ankles and his shirt unbuttoned so he can suck on his nipples.

Jake’s not sure why Jim does it, it doesn’t fit in with the rest of the narrative they’ve established around their dynamic, but he’s not complaining. Jim sucks with his tongue, his hand pinching the other nipple, and it makes Jake curl his toes.

His dick is pressed up against Jim’s chest and he only has to arch his hips a little for Jim to look up. “Oh,” he says, “you really wanna go, don’t you?”

“Isn’t that why you invited me?” Jake asks, breaking into a grin when Jim laughs in his face.

“You’re insatiable. Turn over.”

Jake gets on his hands and knees and Jim pulls his underwear off before he reaches for the lube. He’s not sure if he mentioned it before, but he likes Jim’s hands. Nice fingers, one of which he’s pushing into him right now.

His head tilts back and he lets out a slow sigh. “Oh, yeah, that’s it.”

“You like that, huh?” Jim hums. “Then you’ll love what I’m gonna give you later.”

Jake rolls his eyes, he wants to tell him to shut up but Jim’s flexing his finger inside him and the hand on his ass is giving it a nice squeeze and Jake can probably wait a little while before he goes back to snarking.

He pushes his hips back when Jim presses in his second finger, spreading them inside him and moving them in and out in deliberate motions. It’s a pantomime of fucking and Jake tells him as much.

“Stop teasing,” he says, hands gripping the sheets tightly. He has nice sheets. That “chief white house correspondent” promotion must’ve come with a raise too.

“I just don’t want you hurt,” Jim says. He leans forward to kiss his shoulder, removing his fingers in the same motion. There’s the telltale sound of a condom wrapper being opened and a zipper coming undone, and Jake thinks his dick’s grown harder just in anticipation.

Jim grips his hips and lets out a steading breath before he starts to press himself in, and Jake’s mouth just falls open, like all the breath has been knocked out of him. It’s been a while, he forgot what it was like. It’s nice. Jim has a nice dick – but Jake is never going to say that aloud.

But it is nice. Jake moans a little once he’s able to breathe again. His arms shake a little, slightly unsteady, but he just focuses on breathing while he settles to the feeling of Jim inside of him.

Jim leans forward to brush his knuckles against Jake’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Keep going,” Jake replies.

Jim does, slowly, carefully, angling his hips upward a little to brush against the spot that drives Jake crazy – his prostate? probably, it’s hard to think – and it drives him crazy. He can feel how hard his dick is, how desperate he is for any sort of friction. Jim’s fingers dig a little into his skin and Jake thinks he lets out a whine in response.

He can’t touch himself, not unless he wants to stay upright, so it feels like fire when Jim finally takes a hand off his hips to start jerking him off. He leans his head down. “Oh,” he sighs. “Oh, fuck, Jim, please, _please_ –”

“I got you,” Jim mumbles softly, sweetly, his voice is loud against the background of everything. “I got you, I got you.”

Jake whites out when he comes, spilling into Jim’s hand (like he did almost a day ago, it feels like so much longer) and into the sheets. His arms finally give up the ghost and he flops down, trying to remember how to function again. It always takes a bit.

He thinks he hears Jim grunting a little above him, probably jerking off since he couldn’t get to come inside him. Maybe if Jake could think he’d offer to suck him off, but he can’t really think and he hears Jim sigh loudly a few moments later, followed by the sound of what’s probably the condom missing the wastebasket.

Jim lies down beside him. They’re up against the right side of the bed, the side where the pillow is less indented and the blankets are pushed toward, and it takes a bit of effort for them to move toward the center.

“Well,” Jim finally says. “I forgot to take off my clothes.”

Jake laughs, stupidly, ridiculously, and Jim grabs him before he falls backwards off the bed. The joke wasn’t even that funny to warrant that response but Jake laughs anyway.

He likes to laugh.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He wakes up alone, in an unfamiliar room on an unfamiliar bed. He rubs his eyes and his elbow hits Jim’s shoulder before he remembers where he spent the night. Ah, yes, about last night. He tries to remember where his phone was – oh, right, somewhere on the floor with his pants – and he reaches over Jim for his instead.

There are a couple of texts from Liz, a missed call, and the time is. Oh, shit.

“Jim,” Jake says, urgently, shaking his side. “Jim, Jim, wake up.”

Jim grumbles and turns away. “It’s Sunday,” he mumbles. “Sunday is sleeping day.”

“No, it’s the day where I’m supposed to be at the airport because I’m leaving for California and all my shit is at my house while I’m in your bed.” He gives him another push and Jim finally opens his eyes.

For a second, he just looks at Jake with the softest expression, all kind and gentle and something else. Then it straightens out and he says, “We need to find you clothes.”

Jim takes a quick shower after Jake does, as Jake dries himself off with a towel and finds his phone in the pile of his clothes. A lot of Twitter notifications but no missed calls from Jen.

She picks up immediately when Jake calls, though, sounding almost bemused. “Jake,” she says, “what’s the rule in this household on sleepovers?”

“At least twenty-four hours in advance,” Jake answers. “Look, Jen, I’m sorry, I didn’t think this through, I –”

“Drive over with Jim to the brunch,” Jen says. “I’ll meet you there. You’ll mingle, you’ll play nice, and then we’ll head over to the airport.”

He hates mingling. He’s going to LA _to_ mingle. He sighs. “Okay, I’ll see you there. Love you.”

“Love you too,” she hangs up just as Jim steps out of the bathroom. He’s wearing boxers, at least, but it’s not nearly enough to get the thought of pulling him back into bed and doing what they did last night all over again.

But the idea of getting late to the airport is enough to get him moving. He stands up. “Fuck, I wish I could just wear these clothes again but that would look weird.”

“Doing a walk of shame when you’re supposed to have spent the night at home? Yeah, I’d say that’s weird.” He opens his closet door and tosses a shirt and some pants in his direction. “Think we have time for breakfast?”

“I think they’re serving us breakfast there,” Jake says, pulling on the pants. They’re a bit loose on him, even with his belt, but it’ll have to do. He pulls the shirt over his head and flattens it over his stomach. “Drop my clothes off while I’m gone?”

“And maybe Jen will invite me in for some brunch as well,” Jim hums.

It’s after a few minutes of silence in the car, Jake’s eyes on the road and Jim’s on the scenery beside him, when Jim finally asks, “So why are you going to California, anyway?”

“I got a stint on Kimmel for my book, and a short interview with Pod Save America,” Jake replies.

“Oh,” Jim says. And then, “You wrote a book?”

Jake spares a brief glance at him. “Yes,” he says, slowly. “Yes, I wrote a book. Did you – did you not know I wrote a book?”

“I had no idea,” and from his tone, it’s clear Jim’s being honest. He sounds genuinely ashamed for not knowing.

Jake wants to laugh, the corners of his mouth lifting as he parks the car a couple of blocks away from the venue. Jim opens his mouth and Jake kisses him. It’s not like their other kisses, all heated and hurried and focused toward sex. This is more, “wow, you’re really a self-centered idiot, but it’s endearing,” sort of kiss.

It’s not one they’ve shared before. It makes sense that Jim looks confused when he pulls away. Jake’s still smiling, though.

“Watch the interview,” he says. “I’ll invite you to the book launch party, if you want. Maybe you can get a signed copy.”

“Yeah,” Jim says, voice all quiet all of a sudden. “Yeah, maybe.” Jen knocks on the passenger side window and he jumps before he recognizes her. They step out of the car and she kisses Jake’s cheek.

“Hope your sleepover was worth the social interaction you’re due,” she tells him, and she slaps his arm when he rolls his eyes at her. Jim slams the trunk shut after he’s shoved the bag inside, dusting his hands off.

“Shall we go?” Jen asks. She reaches for Jake’s hand, then pulls back with a frown. “Jake, where’s your ring?”

He grabs his own hand and there’s a sudden panicky feeling welling up in his chest, his ring, his ring, he’s lost his one and only wedding ring –

“He left it in the bathroom,” Jim steps forward and he pulls the band out of his pocket. “I was wondering when you’d notice.” He holds out his hand and Jake settles his down, letting him slide the ring on. It’s a strange, intimate moment, where they don’t look at each other at all, everywhere but at each other.

Jake lifts his head and Jen immediately takes his hand out of Jim’s. She clears her throat. “Come on,” she says. “People are waiting for us inside.” She pulls him along and he follows her, as he always does, because she always leads him right.

Jim’s still leaning against the car when Jake looks back, like he’s waiting for someone. “You know he doesn’t know I wrote a book?” he tells Jen.

She lets out a breathy chuckle. “Considering how much you tweet about it, I’m not surprised.” He laughs, the awkwardness from earlier gone, and everything feels good. Except when Jim walks in, he’s holding hands with Liz.

He pretends not to look, but he does. He always does.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm writing lesbians next, don't worry


End file.
